


Mardy Bum

by HorologiumParadox



Category: Durarara!!
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Emotional Instability, Fluff, Izaya is pissed, Light Angst, M/M, Male Pregnancy, Mood Swings, Mpreg, Shizaya is life, Shizuo can't read the situation, Weight Gain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-29
Updated: 2017-01-29
Packaged: 2018-09-20 17:06:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9501596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HorologiumParadox/pseuds/HorologiumParadox
Summary: Shizuo says the forbidden words in pregnancy and tries to fix it by making it worse.Shizuo x Izaya, mpreg, domestic fluff, light angst.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hellue!
> 
> I'm not very active over here, since I write more in my mother language. However, I do enjoy writing in English and writing Shizaya, so...here you go, some drabble about pregnant!Izaya based on Arctic Monkey's "Mardy Bum". I suggest listening to it while reading.
> 
> Hope you enjoy and leave a comment~
> 
> -Horologium

_I’ve seen your frown and it’s like looking down the barrel of a gun…_

“You’ve put on weight.”

_…and it goes off._

It wasn’t really meant as an insult or anything of the sort. Shizuo was idly watching Izaya shift through the cupboards in search of probably another object of his cravings from his sprawl on the couch when the thought had occured to him. Since he was still working and the raven was entering the second half of pregnancy – which meant he required more and more assistance –, Izaya had temporarily moved in with him.

Only temporarily. And because it was such a hassle to take the metro everyday to Shinjuku and back.

Nevertheless, with more time to annoy his partner in disaster (Shinra would be a dead man after birth), Izaya was slightly less gloomy to spend his days lying around at home.

With that, they’d entered a sort of unvoiced truce, which allowed their cohabitation to be at least tolerable. After some time, Shizuo found Izaya’s provokation to be progressively uneffective, turning to a light back-and-forth with no effort. The information broker seemed to make do with that, thus making their daily life as peaceful as it could get, considering the two people involved. 

Without even being aware of it, however, Shizuo had broken that fragile peace with his passing comment.

With a hand still holding a cupboard, the raven slowly turns around, blood-colored eyes narrowed in a mix of disbelief and outrage. “…What?” he drawls, implicit warning in his voice offering a last chance for the blonde to fix his mistake.

Shizuo doesn’t catch up on that. “Those jeans are tighter than before. I guess it’s really starting to show, huh,” he points, amber eyes trailing down the seam of Izaya’s dark jeans to the back of his thighs.

He doesn’t realize the consequences of what he’s just said until the unusual silence causes him to meet Izaya’s gaze, and then it hits.

In the past, during their fights, Shizuo had seen many shades of the brunette’s irritation, either just flickering on for an instant or being plastered on his face for part of the brawl – usually by the end of it, when both border exhaustion. However, knowing the stinky flea, most of his real hatred was likely concealed behind the mask he wore.

Which is why, when the lazy honey-colored eyes of his are met with a piercing dark glare, shadowed by deeply set furrowed eyebrows in an outright _scowl_ he’s never seen before, the bodyguard can’t help being taken aback, to say the least.

Moving to straighten himself, Shizuo tries, “Iza—“

_SLAM!_

Without breaking eye contact, Izaya bangs the door closed, earning a complaint from its poor hinges. From what it seems, he’s given up on locating whatever it is he desires at the moment.

_Figures_ , Shizuo muses inwardly, already regretting letting his mouth run.

He’s still searching for a somewhat neutral approach when the raven turns sharply, avoiding Shizuo’s gaze as he passes him by on his way to the bedroom. That triggers the blonde into motion, scrambling to his feet after the fuming Izaya. “Wait, Iz—“

The bedroom door greets him with another loud slam just as he reaches it, followed by a metallic ‘click’ that works as well as a verbal rejection. 

“Oi, flea, what the fuck?! Open up!” Shizuo bangs on the door with a fist, frustrated with the sudden change of pace in their interaction. 

“I don’t feel like seeing an imbecilic beast at the moment,” Izaya’s voice cuts through with a clear razor sharpness regardless of the wooden barrier between them.

“Just because I mentioned you’re gaining more weight?” he scowls irritation at the door, growling low before gritting his teeth to keep himself from smashing the wood splinting under his grip. “Don’t get so offended by me stating the obvious!”

This time, there’s not even a retort. The bodyguard’s ready for a heated argument, the possibility of yelling and punching a wall for flea-hatred control or even a few scratches from one of the endless switchblades Izaya manages to get his hands on despite Shizuo’s best efforts to keep them all away from his house.

He’s not expecting the quiet sob that follows the silence.

“…Izaya?” the blonde offers, easing his knuckles on the door to just rest his hand on the surface and lean in to hear better. “You alright?”

There’s another long pause, a shaky inhale and a cough before, finally, “Go to hell.”

Shizuo groans, running a hand through his hair. Be it because of pregnancy or not, Izaya could go from gleefully making fun of his cramped apartment to threatening to throw away his whole wardrobe in matter of minutes. This has to be a new record, though.

_So it’s a sore spot_ , the bodyguard notes, sighing exasperatedly as he rests his forehead on the door.

Thinking back, Shizuo remembers one of the few items Izaya had brought along with his ‘temporary’ moving stuff: a bathroom glass scale. It didn’t seem as if the informant got attached to any piece of furniture, which meant he actually did use it regularly.

The information broker did indeed preserve his shape, exaggeratedly so as to be underweight. Perhaps he was picky about that aspect of his in particular? Shizuo never seemed to be able to grasp how his mind worked, though lately he’s been capable of predicting a few of the brunette’s reactions.

With that in mind, he grimaces at the mental image of escalating numbers on the visor under the small bulge of Izaya’s belly.

Mustering a renewed dose of patience, Shizuo takes a breath and straightens himself, clearing his throat before aiming the words at the emotional mess behind the door. He’s not quite sure as to what to say; the blonde’s never been good at consolation.

There’s a first time to everything, he figures, and many of his are being experienced with Izaya.

He rewinds his mind back to a book he read about pregnancy before deciding it to be stupid and absurd. Maybe it would’ve been clever to keep it. “Oi, flea, you do know that’s normal, right? You’re expecting a fucking child, you couldn’t expect your weight to remain the same.”

There’s a pause, but a weak scoff follows soon after. “I don’t need comfort from a protozoan.”

When the retort comes, Shizuo lets out a silent breath. Sometimes, Izaya meant exactly the opposite due to his ridiculous pride – something the blonde learned from sneaky glances at his sugar-coated sweets when the raven can’t stand the food he used to eat anymore.

“I’m stating the obvious again,” he continues, tuning his voice to gentleness.

The other side of the door goes silent again, like Izaya is considering the affirmation.

“…Is it that bad?”

The information broker’s voice is soft, but back to normal. Registering that as the end of the imminent storm, Shizuo allows himself to relax. Then, he considers the question, reeling back to the sight of the strech of fabric around Izaya’s ass and thighs before pulling on a sheepish side smile. Scratching the back of his neck, the taller feels his face burn as he puts together a reply.

“It’s sexy.”

It takes some time before there’s any mention of motion again, and meanwhile Shizuo’s left to deal with his own embarassment. Distracted by his self-consciousness, Shizuo nearly jumps when the door clicks and slowly opens to partially reveal the pregnant informant.

Izaya’s face is nothing like before. He wears a light frown, probably to mask the adorable blush tinting his cheeks, and his eyes are slightly red around the corners.

It looks like a white flag.

“…Sexy?” The raven still sounds skeptical, meaning Shizuo will have to sink deeper into his own grave.

“Yeah,” he starts, hoping it will suffice. Unfortunately for him, Izaya’s expression doesn’t so much as twitch. With another deep sigh, he adds, “It sticks to your legs, it’s pretty hot.”

Whether it’s the clear discomfort on Shizuo’s face or the flattery, Izaya seems pleased enough. He lets go of the door, enough of a hint for the blonde to take a step forward, closing in on the other.

“You’re a pervert.” It doesn’t have any bite, especially with the way Izaya still has a slight pout on his lips, as if saying he hasn’t forgotten the offense, but will let it slip for now. Shizuo wonders if he’s sick to find that insanely cute.

“I’m not,” he replies just for the hell of it, not particularly paying attention to his words since the raven’s not backing away and doesn’t object the bodyguard’s arms slipping around his waist. “It’s just ‘cause you’re a flea and you make me mad.”

Izaya’s gaze drops to Shizuo’s chest, where his hands have found comfort in playing with the fabric of his shirt. “You’re a beast, Shizu-chan. It’s not hard to make you mad.” That’s his usual teasing tone, meaning they’re no longer on thin ice. His eyes shoot back up and the raven smiles coyly, “A perverted beast, at that.”

Shizuo clicks his tongue, more out of habit than actual irritation. After all, Izaya’s being a cute bastard in his arms and darting out his tongue at him, snooping his arms around his neck to fit their bodies together in that unbelievable perfect way only theirs do.

Their foreheads come into contact, and the tender mocha gaze melts into those blood-colored irises from such close proximity. It doesn’t last much; his lips are buzzing with anticipation, making his sight focus on the thin lips taut in a teasing smile a couple inches away. “But only you make me this mad.”

That rings as a nice privilege to Izaya, who grins before closing his eyes and surrendering to Shizuo’s passionate kiss.

Maybe the pregnancy isn’t a disaster in all, he thinks.


End file.
